


Sewing and Helping as Love Lamutates

by insertcleveracejoke



Series: When (Our) Time Comes Around [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:07:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21571951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insertcleveracejoke/pseuds/insertcleveracejoke
Summary: Darryl was not good at sewing.Skell liked to tell him, in between good natured nabbings, that he was good at many things. She was right, but sewing was not and had never been one of them. Darryl generally relied on Aeson for that particular skill set.But Aeson was not here. The fucker had gone out to get groceries, laughing when Darryl had threatened to hide the good cookies when he came back. Well, Darryl didn't need him.
Relationships: Original Male Character & Original Male Character
Series: When (Our) Time Comes Around [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554643





	Sewing and Helping as Love Lamutates

Darryl was not good at sewing.

Skell liked to tell him, in between good natured nabbings, that he was good at many things. She was right, but sewing was not and had never been one of them. Darryl generally relied on Aeson for that particular skill set.

But Aeson was not here. The fucker had gone out to get groceries, laughing when Darryl had threatened to hide the good cookies when he came back. Well, Darryl didn't need him. He was a strong independent enby that didn't need no one. It couldn't be so hard to fix his cloak.

"It will literally take Aeson at most an hour before he comes back,'' said Skell, the traitor. Darryl pushed back the urge to just reach up and push her off the table. It wasn't like the talking skull had any arms to help regain her balance. "You can wait."

"This is a matter of _principles_ ,'' he said through gritted teeth.

"This is a matter of _stubborness_ ".

"Maybe so, what's that to you?"

"I'm the one that has to watch your pathetic attempts", Skell grumbled.

Darryl stared at her. With one finger, he started pushing her over the table.

"Don't even try to intimidate me, we both know you wouldn't."

Much like a cat surrendering and giving off the impression that this was all his own idea, he turned back to the arduous task of fixing his cloak. The needle stabbed his finger.

Darryl stared at the drop of blood in scandalized betrayal.

"An hour. At the very most," reiterated Skell. "And he can fix that grievous wound for you too."

"Shouldn't need to, I'm not his little brother."

Skell made a "ehhhhh" sound. Not for the first time, Darryl wondered how the fuck she could do that without vocal cords.

"He won't mind. You know that," she continued softly.

Darryl stared at the blood on his finger, and, sighing, put his cloak away.

"You think he could teach me how to do this stuff?"

"The basics, no doubt," Skell answered. "I wouldn't ask if I were you. We all like to feel useful."

He frowned, not quite knowing how to interpret that. Before he could ask, however, the front door opened.

His leg was over the back of the couch before one of them could blink. The rest of him swiftly followed.

"Hey, do you need help with that?"

Aeson was carrying an armful of bags. They were numerous and big enough that he looked like he was going to drop half of them with his next deep breath, and a relieved smile formed on his face as he let Darryl get some of the lighter burdens, elbowing him away when the fourteen years old tried to grab a heavier one. The healer was not built for strength, but neither was the kid.

"Yeah, thanks. I'm gonna get Dana to put those in the fridge- hey, you haven't fixed your cloak yet?"

"The needle stabbed me," Darryl accused, showing him the hurt finger after dropping the bags on the table next to Skell.

"I can see that. Can I heal that for you?"

"Yeah, sure."

Aeson dropped the rest of the bags over with the others, taking care not to drop anything on the skull, and took Darryl's hand. It was the simple work of a moment to get the wound to close itself. The healer showed off a little, knowing the kid liked the soft green and blue glow of healing magic, but let go of his hand soon enough.

"Thanks. Hey, if I put the groceries away, will you fix my cloak?", Darryl asked, sucking on the healed finger.

"Yeah, sure. Thought it was obvious I was going to fix it, but thanks." Aeson smiled, rolling up the sleeves of his jacket, and collapsed on the couch. The cloak was dragged to his lap.

Rolling his eyes and trying not to smile, Darryl started to work. He knew where most of the stuff was supposed to be by now, even if he would need to call Dana or Granny in a while. They somehow knew where everything went. Meanwhile, though, he was going to get most of the work done by himself.

Skell sighed. Her boy was going to be the death of her someday.


End file.
